


Worthwhile

by phoenixwings



Series: Discussions and Desires [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Human, Bottom Castiel, Dean in Panties, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Dom Castiel, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panty Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Sub Dean, Top Dean, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-19 23:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3628509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwings/pseuds/phoenixwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is grumpy about having to take it easy for a few weeks, but Castiel promises to make it worth his while in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worthwhile

**Author's Note:**

> I can't seem to stay away from this verse(Apparently the way to get your writing mojo back is to write 20K of smut in three days. Who knew?) 
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr](http://burningphoenixwings.tumblr.com/). Though, fair warning, I'm not on it very much.
> 
>  **Contains** : Sub Dean, Dom Cas, orgasm delay/denial, panty kink, top Dean, bottom Cas, mentioned Rhonda Hurley, and a scene in which Dean has some minor anxiety.

“C’mon,” Dean says with his head resting on Castiel's stomach. “Can’t we fool around just a little?”

 Castiel chuckles and shakes his head. “You heard the doctor. You shouldn’t do anything that might tear your stitches.”

 Dean pouts. “Can’t have sex. Can’t go to work. What the hell am I supposed to do for three weeks?”

 “We both know you’re going to watch hours of Doctor Sexy Sexy,” Castiel replies without lifting his eyes from the paper he’s grading. “ You're supposed to take it easy. You just had a surgery.”

“A minor surgery,” Dean argues. Castiel gives him a pointed look.

“I can’t believe you’re grading papers instead of paying attention to me,” Dean says, “I’m your convalescing boyfriend. What’s so great about those essays, anyway? It’s not like some co-ed accidentally handed in her love letter to you,” Dean imitates a high-pitched voice, _“Dear Diary, I have so much trouble concentrating in class because Professor Novak is just soooo hot. Sometimes I have dreams about him and his sex-hair. I wish he would give me extra credit, if you know what I mean._ ”

 “If this is your way of trying to get me to have sex, it’s not working. And I did once have a student accidentally turn in a personal note, but it wasn’t about me, for the record.”

 “Harrumph,” Dean grumbles.

“I’ll make you a deal. If you behave and do everything the doctor told you to, including all the rest you’re supposed to be getting, I’ll make it worth your while in the end," Castiel offers.

“Yeah?”

“Anything you want,” Castiel promises.

“Okay,” Dean says, stifling a yawn, “Fine. I’ll behave, I guess. I’d probably behave a lot better if we ordered the season 8 Doctor Sexy DVD, though. It's the only one we don't have.” He gives Cas his best lost-puppy look.

“You are shameless,” Cas says.

“Shame doesn’t get me laid or Doctor Sexy DVDs.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “I already ordered it for you yesterday.”

“Really?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Cas says, then lifts Dean’s arm up to shuffle the papers on his lap and clip them together. He tosses them on the nightstand, then turns the lamp off.

“Man, I love you,” Dean declares.

“I know,” Cas replies teasingly.

“You did not just say that.”

“Oh, I think I did.”

“I—you—” Dean sputters, then huffs. “Dork.”

“Geek,” Castiel shoots back.

“Nerd.”

“Dweeb.”

“Oh my god,” Dean says as he laughs and clutches his side, wincing a little at the tenderness of his incision, “Did you really just call me a dweeb? I don’t think I've heard anyone use that word since 1998.”

Cas doesn’t respond verbally to that, but he rolls over until he’s on his hands and knees above Dean, completely boxing the other man in underneath him. He’s careful not to actually touch any of Dean’s surgery wounds, but he leans in until his face is only centimeters away from Dean’s.

“Thought you said no foolin’ around,” Dean gets out breathlessly.

“Yes,” Cas says, deliberately lowering his voice, “But the doctor didn’t say I couldn’t kiss that sass of yours away.”

Dean grins. “I’d like to see you try.”

Cas is on him within seconds. He plants his hands firm on either side of Dean’s arms and bends down to capture Dean's lips, nipping at Dean's bottom lip. Dean pushes his head up, trying to take some of the control, but Castiel isn’t having it. He kisses ruthlessly, tongue tracing the shape of Dean’s lips, until they’re both out of breath. Castiel rolls onto his back and grins. 

“There,” Cas says smugly.

“Damn,” Dean says, his voice thin, “I think I need to sass you more often, then.”

 

* * *

 

Dean likes lazing around as much as the next person, but after three weeks of nothing but Doctor Sexy marathons and staying in his pajamas all day, he’s itching to do something. By the time his check-up comes around and he gets a clean badge of health, he’s practically bursting with excitement. Cas hadn't been able to come with him to his appointment, and it takes less time than Dean expected, so he decides to go to the grocery store and restock the fridge. He’s pretty pumped to be able to do, well, anything again, and he plans on starting by cooking a celebration meal.

By the time Cas gets home from his office hours, Dean has grilled burger patties and is working on toasting the buns. Castiel sets his briefcase in one of their kitchen chairs and leans against the counter as he surveys Dean's work.

“What’s the occasion?” Cas asks.

“Doc said I’m good,” Dean replies with a wave of the spatula. “Get the ketchup?”

Cas retrieves the bottle from the fridge and sets it on the table, then sneaks up behind Dean and fits his hands around Dean's waist.  

"The doctor said you've healed properly?" Cas asks, breath tickling the hairs on the back of Dean's neck. Dean nods and Castiel squeezes at his hips. "And have you been good?" 

“Yeah,” Dean says as he turns the burner off and turns around. They’re standing pressed against each other now, so close that Dean can see Cas’ dilated eyes. Dean swallows hard. “I’ve been good.”

“Hmmm,” Castiel lets out, considering. “You have, haven’t you?”

Cas stands on his toes, leaning  even closer to Dean. “And if I remember correctly, I did promise to make it worth your while, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. . . “

“After dinner,” Cas promises. Then he turns around to set the table, leaving Dean slightly dazed with a growing tightness in his jeans. Dean’s tempted to suggest they just forget dinner for the time being—the burgers will keep well enough—but he's pretty sure he'll be rewarded  _more_ if he plays along, so he just smiles sweetly at Cas as he delivers dinner to the table. 

Thankfully, Castiel keeps the rest of their dinner conversation PG. He tells Dean a story about a particularly irate student in one of his classes— _"If this continues I’m going to have to report her to the Dean's Office and I don’t want to do that, but some of the things she does are just so absurd. . ._ ”— and Dean talks about how excited he is to be able to work under his baby’s hood again. Still, there’s a hunger in Dean’s belly that's not satisfied by the food. 

When Cas pushes his chair back slightly, Dean springs up and clears his plate.

“Done?” Dean asks. He doesn’t even bother to try and hide the hopeful expression on his face.

Cas smirks. “Someone’s eager.”

“Cas, c’mon,” Dean pleads. Cas chuckles.

“Yes, yes, I’m done. I’ll help you clean up.”

They work quickly, mostly silent except for the small comments of “pass me the plates, please?” or “this has to be hand-washed”. Dean scrubs a frying pan and finally lets his mind run wild through the possibilities of what Castiel might have planned. The images flash through his mind: Cas fucking him slowly, maybe teasing him—though they normally do that anyway—or using one of their toys they only use once in a rare blue moon. Dean’s body heats, and he knows it’s not just because he has soapy hot water up to his elbows.

Once all the dishes are put away and Dean’s dried his hands, Dean turns towards Cas, an eager smile breaking out over his face.

“What do you want me to do?” Dean asks. Cas walks around him like a lion stalking his prey, the comparison made even more apt by his predatory gaze. Oh yeah, Dean’s looking forward to this. Cas closes in, once again putting his face only inches away from Dean’s. Cas runs a hand through Dean’s hair, then tugs it back roughly. Cas leans it and kisses a long line of flesh from Dean’s collarbone up his neck, stopping right before he reaches Dean ear. With Castiel's hand tangled in his hair, Dean can't do anything but stand there. 

“Go to the bedroom and strip,” Cas says, voice barely above a whisper, but heated against Dean’s skin, “And put on that pair of black panties.”

Well. That’s certainly different. It’s been awhile since they’ve brought the panties out, which makes the idea even more tantalizing. Dean’s not completely hard yet, but the words alone have him getting there. Dean nods and starts making his way to the bedroom.

“Oh, and Dean?” Cas says. Dean turns around.

“Yeah?”

“No touching yourself."

“Yes sir,” Dean agrees. Cas turns back towards the sink—giving him time, Dean guesses, he’s not sure—and Dean walks to their bedroom. Since Cas isn't there, Dean doesn't bother with a show, just pulls his shirt off in a fluid motion and lets his jeans fall to the floor. He tosses everything in a corner and turns towards their dresser. Slowly, he opens the top shelf.

Dean moves some of his socks and boxers out of the way until he finds the three pairs of panties at the bottom of the drawer. He holds them for a few minutes, delaying putting them on. It’s not that he doesn’t like the panties. He loves them, ever has since Rhonda Hurley made him try a pink pair years ago. Cas loves them too. Last time Dean wore any, one of the two red pairs he had, he wore them underneath jeans and casually let Cas catch an eye of the waistband while they were cleaning their house. Castiel had abandoned a still-running vacuum cleaner, and Dean would place the resulting orgasm as one of his top-10 best sexual experiences of all time.

So yeah, Dean loves the panties. But there’s something about them that just makes him feel vulnerable. It’s not the same as the erotic vulnerability he feels when Cas lays him out on the bed-spread eagle and ties him out or when he submits completely, letting himself be dragged to that hazy mental space where Cas can lead him with the smallest gesture or quietest word. There’s a small nagging voice in the back of his head that says that Dean should be ashamed of the panties, ashamed that he likes wearing them so much. It’s in the voice of his father and the hyper-masculinity he heard growing up, the voice of the burly guys who used to eye him like a piece of bait dangling on a fishing line.

Dean takes a deep breath and steels himself. It’s always so worth it once he puts them on, but he has to take a few minutes to work up to it. He doesn’t want to take too long, though, because Dean’s not sure how much longer he has before Castiel comes to the bedroom. He places on leg in the pair of panties, then the other, and pulls them up. Once they’re on, Dean feels a little better about it. It’s just him and Cas, after all. He’s worn them before. And he does like this pair. They're a little snug and Dean wouldn't want to wear them for long periods of time, but he likes it in the bedroom. They dig into his skin to the point where Dean can't forget he's wearing them, and they're soft and delicate with a bow tied at the top of the waistband. 

Dean stretches a little and revels in the feel of satin against his skin before he climbs on the bed. Cas didn’t tell him how he wanted to find him, so Dean decides to lie down on his back while he waits. Now that his nerves have subsided, the smooth glide of fabric against his skin causes his cock to twitch. He fists the bedspread to keep from touching himself. He looks at the clock that’s hanging in their room, wondering how long he’s been in here already.

It turns out he doesn’t have to wait long. It’s been three minutes since he climbed up on the bed—and Dean knows it, because his eyes haven’t left the clock—when Castiel enters the room. He’s taken off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves on his shirt. Dean licks his lips at the sight and he knows Cas did it on purpose. Dean’s told him on more than one occasion how hot he finds it when Cas dresses like that—part dominant, part sexy professor, and partially just his pure, strange Castiel.

Castiel smiles and unbuttons his shirt slowly from the top down before he turns away and shrugs it off. When he turns back, Dean eyes his flushed body. It’s a familiar sight, but one that never gets any less arousing. Cas toes off his shoes and unbuckles his belt, but leaves his pants on as he crawls across the bed. Cas sits against the headboard with his legs spread out and motions to Dean to crawl in between them. Still silent, Dean obeys and lets Cas mold him in whatever position Cas has in mind.

Eventually, Cas gets Dean to sit in-between his legs, not straight back in between the V his legs creates but perpendicular to the point where Dean’s back is being supported by an arm Castiel has wrapped around Dean. He can fell the press of Cas’ erection against his ass and he has to hold back the instinct to rub against it. Sitting as they are, Dean's almost forced to keep eye contact.

“Hello Dean,” Cas greets, as if they hadn't both just been in the kitchen. Dean has to blink a few times before he answers, because the tone Cas is using is so differently than the commandeering voice he used in a kitchen, but eventually he finds his voice.

“Hi Cas,” Dean replies. Cas cards his hand through Dean’s hair and Dean sighs happily at the touch. Cas lets his hand trail down Dean’s chest, continuing all the way until he reaches the waistband of Dean's panties, though he doesn't do anything but hook a thumb into the band. 

“You’re beautiful,” Cas says, and Dean has to swallow around that. Cas loves doing that, complimenting him, and it’s always hard for Dean to take. He knows there’s no point in arguing, though. He doesn’t say anything, but he knows Cas doesn’t expect him to. For now, it’s enough that Dean is able to take it at all without arguing. 

Castiel trails his hand down lower until it’s resting on Dean’s hard cock through the panties. Cas strokes once, twice, three times before a bead of pre-come appears and soaks through the fabric. Dean makes a happy noise and lays his head against Cas’ chest. Cas is moving so slowly and deliberately, which is not what Dean had expected, but he’s pretty content here even as his body throbs with want. Cas trails his hand back up until and places his hand on top his own arm that’s holding onto Dean, completely enveloping Dean.

“I believe the words I used when we made this deal was that if you behaved, I would make it worth your while and give you anything you want. So, Dean, what is it you would like? We can continue like this, we can do anything you'd like. . . ”

The idea is almost overwhelming. There’s half a dozen things he could say he wants to do with Cas, to Cas, have Cas do to him. Still, he remembers a certain fantasy he had last week. . .

“I think I’d like to top,” Dean says, a little unsure. It’s not that he’s never done that before in their relationship—when they’re not in their dom/sub roles, they tend to switch on and off depending on their individual moods—but it’s adding the next part of his request that makes him uncertain. “but. . . I’d still like you to dom.”

Cas nods thoughtfully. “I can do that.”

Dean exhales, closing his eyes as he does so, only for them to fly open again when Castiel sneaks his hand into Dean’s waistband and squeezes Dean’s cock.

“On your back,” Cas instructs. It’s difficult with them in the position they’re in—Dean keeps bumping into one of Cas’ knees—but eventually he’s flat on his back. Cas slides his leg out from under Dean and crawls forward, grabbing Dean’s ankle and spreading his legs apart. Dean waits as patiently as he can, already squirming. 

Generally Cas likes to take his time and tease by nipping at Dean’s neck or playing with his nipples, but tonight he just starts in immediately, stroking the length of Dean’s cock through the panties up from the base. He only does it once, then rests his hand on Dean’s stomach.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Cas commands. Dean nods and lifts his head up just enough to look at Castiel, who has plants his hands on both of Dean’s hips in order to hold him down. Slowly Cas lowers head and places his mouth over the head of Dean’s cock through the damp panties. Dean lets out a keen whine and fists his hands in the bedspread, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Cas as the other man starts to lick and suck through the fabric. Castiel moves one of his hands to rub lightly at Dean's balls while the other hand keeps Dean's hip firmly in place. Dean clutches their bedspread even tighter, twisting it as his arousal continues to build. 

Just when he thinks he’s going to have to tell Cas to stop or he’ll come, Cas sits back. Dean watches as the other man palms himself through his slacks for a few minutes. Dean’s own panties are a mess of pre-come and saliva, and it really shouldn't be as erotic as it is, Dean thinks. Cas throws his head back and squeezes himself a few more times, then finally unzips and slides his pants off, throwing them off the bed, but he leaves his boxers on for the moment. He bends back down and Dean’s about to open his mouth to beg Cas not to put his mouth on Dean’s cock again because Dean’s not sure he can handle it, but he kisses Dean’s hipbone instead.

“I love seeing you in panties,” Cas remarks. “I love knowing you wear them for no one else but me.”

“Wouldn’t want anyone else to see me but you,” Dean gets out. Cas smiles.

“It seems a shame to take them off so soon,” Cas remarks as he slides the waistband of Dean’s panties down, “but I suppose it’s a necessity. Sit up.”

Dean obeys and watches Cas retrieve the lube from his nightstand.

“Hands on the headboard,” Cas says, and Dean automatically puts his arm behind him until they’re casually resting on the headboard. Dean watches as Cas finally eases out of his boxers. He also watches as Cas lubes up a finger and starts slowly prepping himself with one hand braced on the bed. Dean watches Cas pump a finger in and out and groans. His own cock is still leaking and he desperately needs some sort of friction, but Dean knows he’s not allowed to touch himself—or Castiel, apparently—right now.

“Like what you see?” Cas teases, like he doesn’t know damn well Dean wants to be the one doing that. Dean nods as Castiel continues working, moving quickly until he’s completely stretched. Then Cas crawls forward and rolls his hips downward, his cock barely brushing against Dean’s stomach.

“Fuck,” Dean curses, head thrown back, as Cas continues in what is basically a lap dance. Cas grabs one of Dean’s arms and flips them both over until Cas is flat on his back with Dean above him. Dean sits up a bit and looks at Cas, who’s panting hard beneath him now.

“You’re going to fuck me,” Cas says, “But you’re not going to come until I say so. Understand?”

Dean nods.

“Words, Dean,” Cas prompts.

“Yes, sir,” Dean says with a groan, pretty sure he’ll agree to almost anything at this point after Cas’ little show. Then, finally, Cas wraps his legs around Dean’s waist. Dean braces his hands on the bed and slowly presses forward in Cas until he finally bottoms out, pausing for a moment as he waits for Cas. They’re both panting hard now, and Dean feels some satisfaction that Cas already looks as wrecked as Dean feels, Cas’ own cock red and dripping beneath him.

“Well?” Cas asks. “What are you waiting for?”

Maybe not quite as wrecked as Dean feels, then, if he still has such mastery of language. Dean rolls his hips slowly, afraid that much more will bring him to the orgasm that’s been building since Cas first mouthed at his cock over the panties. He pulls back, almost all the way out, before slamming forward again.

“Faster,” Cas commands. Dean hangs his head and whimpers, but follows the order.

“Good, Dean,” Cas praises. He reaches down and presses his fingernails into Dean’s shoulders. “Harder.”

Dean does so without responding. Just when Dean knows he can’t keep up the pace anymore without coming, Cas staves off his orgasm with two words.

“Slow down,” Cas orders. It takes all of Dean’s self-control to do so, particularly when Cas reaches down between them to take his own cock in hand and strokes slowly from the base to the tip.

“More,” Cas commands after a few minutes and Dean practically sobs in relief at being able to set a rhythm again. Cas keeps touching himself, and it’s not long until his back arches and he shouts Dean’s name as he comes all over his own stomach. The sight alone is almost enough to make Dean come himself, but he holds himself back as tears from frustration prick in the corner of his eyes and he slows down. Castiel closes his eyes for a few seconds and it satisfies Dean immensely to see him have to take time to get his bearings after such an intense orgasm. 

Cas gasps beneath him and Dean looks down at him. Cas nods, eyes flying back open. “Keep going.”

Part of Dean wants to plead for Cas to let him come, but he also feels completely beyond words at this point. Cas moves his hands back to Dean’s shoulder and rakes his nails down Dean’s back.  

“Go ahead,” Cas finally, _finally_ says, “You can come.”

This time Dean really does sob in relief before thrusting once, twice more before finally allowing himself to tumble off the edge, eyes completely closed and mouth opened wide in a scream that never makes it fully past his lips. He falls on top of Cas before slowly pulling out and tumbling to the side. His mind is blissfully foggy and he laughs a little deliriously.

“Good?” Cas asks. Dean nods because he’s still not sure he can speak. Cas leans down and brushes his lips against Dean's, who doesn’t really even have the energy to respond to that. but he sighs happily when Cas pulls back. Dean manages to roll over on his side and cozies up to Castiel, who's staring up at the ceiling. Dean feels pretty proud at how it's taking Cas awhile to recover too. If he felt capable of speech, he'd totally be boasting right now. Eventually, though, Castiel sits up and turns to Dean.

“I’m going to go get you some juice. Do you need anything else?” Dean shakes his head. Cas kisses him on the forehead before promising, “I’ll be right back.”

Dean makes a noise of acknowledgement. By the time Cas returns with a glass of orange juice, Dean’s mostly come back to the world, though he still needs Castiel's help to sit up. He draws the line when Cas tries to hold the glass to his mouth, though, and swats the offered hand away.

“How are you feeling?” Cas asks as he skims a hand against Dean’s stomach in the way he knows Dean likes. Dean used to be self-conscious about his stomach, unhappy with how it refused to firm up no matter how strong the rest of his body got, but over his time with Castiel he’s found he’s kind of come to like it, particularly when Cas rubs soothing circles into the skin there. Dean takes a sip of orange juice before answering.

“ ‘M fantastic,” Dean replies, his words still a little slurred.

“Your incision doesn’t hurt?”

Dean shakes his head, but Cas bends down to check it anyway. The stitches have been removed and there’s only a thin scar line where the initial incision was made. Cas touches it gently.

“No pain?” He asks.

“Little tender, but it doesn’t hurt,” Dean reassures as he drains the rest of the glass. Castiel presses a line of feather-light to the scarred skin.

“Good. Are you up for getting cleaned up?”

“Mm-hmm,” Dean responds sleepily, but he sits up straighter. It takes some coaxing, but eventually Cas gets him into their bathroom.

“Shower or bath?”

Dean considers. A shower sounds pretty great, because they can definitely both fit in there at the same time, but if he’s being honest with himself Dean doesn't think he's capable of remaining on his feet that long.

“Bath,” he decides. Cas turns the water. While the tub is filling, he grabs a cloth by the sink and runs cold water over it, then gently wipes Dean’s face. Dean reaches over and turns the bath water off once it’s properly filled and gets in, the warm water easing his sore muscles.

They can’t both fit in the tub, so Castiel ends up sitting on the edge of the bath with his feet in the bath as he massages Dean’s neck and shoulders. Dean’s not sure he’s ever been more relaxed, except maybe right after his surgery when he was riding the high of prescription-strength painkillers.

“Was that worth your while?” Cas asks.

Dean lets out a content moan and leans back against Cas’ knees.

“Mm yeah, pretty damn worth it Cas,” Dean replies.

“Good,” Cas chuckles. “You were wonderful, listening to me like that. So amazing, but then you always are.”

Dean blushes, but doesn't refuse the praise. 

“Well I had three weeks worth of sex to catch up on,” Dean replies, deflecting slightly, and rests his head on Castiel's knee. Cas runs a hand through Dean’s hair and rubs gently at the scalp. “Which, really, if we’re going to catch up on three weeks, that means we should be fucking every night. . . “

Cas laughs. “Nice try. Though, you're not the only one who's missed it, you know.”

“Mm-hmm. So since tomorrow’s Saturday, I think we should start with blowjobs in the morning, then maybe you should tie me up and fuck me in the afternoon. . . ”

“ I think you might want to slow down there," Cas laughs. "We don't have the stamina of eighteen-year-olds anymore. Let’s start with getting you in bed first, hmm?”

“Water’s awfully nice and warm,” Dean counters, skimming his hand over the surface.

“Maybe so, but you can’t sleep there.”

“Fine,” Dean huffs. He gets out and dries off, but doesn’t let Cas get more than a few feet away at any moment. Cas places his arm around the hollow of Dean’s back and walks them back to the bed, grabbing a pair of boxers for each of them, since Dean refuses to sleep without at least something on(" _In case there’s an emergency, Cas. I don’t want the police to see my dick_ ”).

Dean pulls Cas back down on the bed and wraps around him, octopus-style.

“Today,” Dean declares, mostly into Castiel’s shoulder, “was awesome.”

“I’m glad,” Castiel replies. “I think so too.”

“Just wait until I wake you up tomorrow morning,” Dean says. Castiel starts to reply—Dean thinks he hears the word “pancakes” —but before he can finish his sentence, Dean's already entrenched in sleep. 


End file.
